Only Seventeen
by Adrienne Wolf
Summary: One-Shot You wouldn't have thought it. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was only seventeen.


Only Seventeen

_**Only Seventeen**_

_Lady Adrienne Faery_

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Neither the characters nor the idea. The idea belongs to no one. It is something too many people, including myself suffer through. Only I never got as far as she is about to.**

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**Edit: 07/04/2008 I decided to do a prequel to this, the little scene where they met on the horse. I took out the two words that made their ages the same, to fit in a little better with the plotlines of the books. I this is an A/U since we know she didn't die, as proved in the seventh book.**

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He saw. I know he saw. He's got a reputation for being dense, but it's all just an act. After all, who would know better than his best friend? Yep, that's all I am, his bloody best friend. I want it to be more; I need it to be more. I know he saw them. Those lines I've made in that deep red color. That pattern of a rose, both beautiful and dangerous. That which revealed my inner turmoil. All because of men. I swear, they never know. I'm only seventeen for bloody heaven's sake! How could it have happened? What happened to who I used to be? The happy little redhead out in the yard, before it all came crashing down. The little seven year old, for once tall for my age that year, on her horse with a coat as red as her hair.

I guess it's all gone. It's what they have done to me. I am only seventeen. How could life hurt this badly already? I mean seriously, I am only seventeen.

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How could she do that? What could have done that? Put that pain in her storm cloud eyes? Was it him? Was it her parents? Was it those two twits she hangs out with? Could it have been me? Damn it, she's seventeen. She's far too young to have those marks. What was she thinking? She is still the most beautiful creature to grace this planet though. I just wish I could take that pain out of her eyes. I wish I could hold her, like he was supposed to. Kiss her, like I've always dreamed of. Tell her I love her, in the way she needs, not just as a best friend. The way I have known I have since I first saw her, at age seven. On that horse, high above my head as I leaned on her fence, watching.

What was she thinking? Do I really not know her like I claim to anymore? She shouldn't be like this. She's only seventeen.

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I wish he hadn't seen my arm. I shouldn't have rolled up my sleeves. I guess it was unconscious, after all these things bloody well itch. That look of disgust plaguing his chocolate eyes. It's too much to bear now. I know he'll never love me. My last guy didn't ever love me. Guess it's just as well, I didn't love him either. I am in love with my best friend. The earth-moving, heart-stopping, once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. And I'm only seventeen. I've known since I saw him, back in the good days. Back over ten years ago. Back when I was on that horse, before he was sold. When I didn't know yet what life had in store for me. I was up on that horse, feeling as free as I could ever get, not on a broom. There he was, leaning on my fence, just moved in. Watching me, my every movement.

That time has passed. Life has moved on. But I'm still stuck in that memory. It's hard to believe on most days I'm still so young. It's never seems like it, but I'm only seventeen.

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I need to talk to her. To see what is wrong with my girl. Well, she's not really my girl, not in actual terms. But everyone knows she should be. I guess she unofficially is, but I have to wonder if she knows it at times. She is really so much more to me than just my best friend. One could even say she is the love of my life, no matter what mistakes she makes. I should go talk to her. Some of those looked new, or at least reopened. She's really quite an artist, that rose she made with them was pretty good. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'blood red rose,' I suppose. How could my perfect angel fall so far? So young too, only seventeen. Barely that even. Her birthday was only but a month or two ago. It was just like yesterday I felt the feeling I now get every time I see the sweet little girl. I had just stood there and watched her, she was amazing when she rode, back before her mom died.

I guess things changed. I need to go find her though. Things may get even more out of hand. I am afraid, shaken to my core by this. I admit it for once. She's helped me though so much, but I haven't really been there for her. Hard to remember she's only seventeen.

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He'll most likely try to come talk. Or maybe he won't. Maybe he hates me for what I've done. If he only knew. Every one was made with him right there, with every one able to see and stop me. No one did. Why should he care now. He didn't see or try to stop me then. I need some more, lower, to finish the rose. To make the stem and leaf. I managed to make it with only seventeen. Perfect, my age. Two sets of seventeen, seventeen petals, seventeen lines to make the stem and leaf. Only seventeen. How much life will change, how it will play cruel games with people, in seventeen years. Mom should have never died. Dad shouldn't have left so much. I shouldn't have hidden so much.

It is all ending now. I know it is. I have never made this many at once before. Life has ended before, and it will for many, many more. There really aren't that many lines, they are just farther down in more dangerous territory. Still though, there is only seventeen.

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I've got to find her. Where is she? I'm so scared I've lost her now. Where could my Princess of the Pitch be? I have looked everywhere, in all the places she's been known to go. Except one. Maybe the most important place of all. The Quidditch Pitch itself. Our place here. There's no way she could be at our other place, between out houses out in the country, by the fencepost where we met. Possibly where we fell in love. I know I did, I need to know if she did though. People say we can't feel love this young, at only seventeen. They're wrong. If anything, it's stronger at this age than any other. There she is! Why is she lying on the ground? If I am too late, I'll kill myself.

Terrible choice of words that was. It's what she tried to do. My sweet, what did you do? You aren't old enough. You are too young. You whisper a few words. "I am sorry. I want you to know, I love you. Not as a friend though, Oliver." Too few words. Only seventeen.

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A sandy haired Scot stands at a funeral. He knew she would have wanted him to speak. He will, but not much.

"I knew her well, some could say. Oliver Wood, her best friend for a little over ten years. Katie Bell was the best thing that has and ever will happen to me. If only I had told her sooner, we might not be gathered her today. I love her, even though she's gone. I wish she wasn't only seventeen.

Everyone soon left after her body was places in the ground. He waits until they are finally gone then traces the words that show the tragedy that really happened. Reading them aloud as he does so.

"Only Seventeen."


End file.
